'No
it can't be. We will find our way out. Here look at this note.
All is well' Man 3 produced a paper that is torn away and looked
almost devoid of further lifetime. He held it out in belief that
someone would take a look. Keeping the paper out of his body in
his extended hand, he observed the stern looks emanating from his
companions. The words "All is Well" is the cause for these weird
looks. Technically, they were strangers before thirty minutes,
but after finding the five of them being left alone in the middle
of the desert, they were constrained to become companions. They
were soldiers of country 2 being captured by country 1 and were
being imprisoned in a local cantonment. The belligerents were so
intense to devastate each other no matter what. The country 1 is
in losing streak, and projections show that it would soon
surrender to country 2.

'Keep it inside. That note is not producin' us nothin'.' Opened
his mouth Man 5.

He
appeared to be the eldest among them. It was two days now that
they had been captured by the soldiers of 1st country,
who had tied them to poles in their base camp, along with many
others. They had no idea of how they came here. When they opened
their eyes from being unconscious, they found themselves being
laid on the hot desert; As soon as they returned to sobriety,
they raised to foot from lying in alacrity, feeling the heat burn
their skins; They were assured that this is their punishment that
even though should country 2 win, it should be never able to
rescue them. They wondered how they survived the same heat in
unconsciousness.

'Our
punishment is that we would die of dehydration.' predicted the
elderly.

'But, shouldn't we try finding our way out? Every desert must end
at some point.' Man 3 said.

'Yes
it ends somewhere. Somewhere three hundred kilometres ahead of
here.' Man 1 quipped these words - the statistics being just for
namesake. A mere guessed random number. Quite a nice number isn't
it? Strangling to even hear him say!

'An'
in a dess'at yo' had 16 possib directions.' Man 2 said, killing
the elegance of the language rather than to kill their captors.
He felt it safe to speak negative than to go out taking risk
blindly.

'Okay guys enough, let us try to find our way out. And we will
find it okay. At least we will try and die. Which way?' Man 5
asked followed by three index fingers point in three different
directions. Another finger joined the other three reluctantly and
shared the same direction finger 1 pointed in. The reluctant
finger was being of Man 2's.

'Then we will follow this way.' Joined Man 5's finger - not
extending longer as the other four did. It just groped into air
for a split second and returned back to its previous position
that pointed to hot sand - the hand being suspended. They all
felt their skin getting burned by lack of clothes. They were
stripped off their clothes save for their innerwear (only briefs
and no vests) - the grace of the enemy. The grace that blessed
them enjoy the gifts of sun. It would be a gift if they were
indeed in the Caribbean for vacation and now the same gift
appeared to them as punishment.

Man
3 spoke, 'And thank goodness at least they had left our rugged
boots. Had they removed it too, we can't even stand here. That's
why I say "All is well".'

'Yes, he's right.' Conceded with him Man 1, and slowly muttered,
'but all is not well.'

With
Man 5, the elderly's lead, they followed. (Man 2 came in
reluctance). In order to keep the fleet in good spirits, Man 5
inquired all about them and learned a few facts. Man 1 has two
children - both daughters. He's quite a good father and a loving
husband. He said there is no more to say about him.

Man
2 had never seen his dad. His mother died when he was twelve. He
is living together with a girl whom he had planned to marry after
the war ends. He felt that he never had been lucky throughout his
life. Every time should an opportunity come, it always slipped
through the other way. Even in this matter, he was first assigned
to attack from north-bound team and was later changed to this
team with "infidels" - as he said - and that he and his commander
were the only men alive. He had no idea about what happened to
his commander and he is least cared about it.

Man
3 had a beautiful family - A caring mom and dad, his little
sister who was 10 and his elder brother who is going to get
married in a month. He said he was only 19 and is currently in
love.

Man
4 was generally a tight-lipped being. He was married but got
divorced just after a month of married life. He had fought with
his mom, parted with her, and is living in isolation for the past
two years. He refused to disclose the reason for divorce as well
as his parting with mom. "A little heart with millions of
secrets" thought Man 5. As no one cared and asked about Man 5, he
just sighed, and continued to walk.

The
crew was not very vivid; though under the given circumstances it
is difficult to be so, the elderly and Man 3 just pretended to be
as such. They should have trekked about two kilometres when Man 2
shrieked, 'Na na I, I can't move anymo'. I wull remain 'ere an'
may die. I'm sorry.'

Despite the numerous efforts to get him back, he was not to be
moved. It is not wise to waste time on him. So, others went
leaving him in the middle of nowhere. And fixing their
destination to nowhere.

In
another considerable distance, 'Maybe this is what they wanted. I
can't go anymore.' Man 1 said and stood at the same place. The
same kind of placatory measures ensued in nothing. He added to
the eldest, 'Chief, I just can't anymore. If you find water
somewhere at a closer distance please bring me some.'

Unable to reach to a conclusion, the other three bid him adieu
and started going. They even forgot that they didn't have
anything to bring water to him except for their innerwear, should
they were able to get water and would intend to save the dying
man. The group is reduced from five to three. They were almost
sure of their death too, in the ravishing claws of the scorching
sun. It is the determination of the oldest guy that kept them
moving. They went without speaking a single word. Man 5 followed
by Man 4 followed by Man 3. In descending order!

'Cowards. Purely cowards. Unfit to live.' Said Man 5 in general,
which the other two having no interest to engage in a
conversation didn't inquire further. But both were sure that it
is referred to the other confidence-less two.

'It
should be around 12.' Man 4 said feeling the sun at its peak
efficiency. They didn't reply.

They
had no idea how much expanse had they covered when Man 3
shrieked, 'Hey! Hey!' Agitated, Man 5 took turned about to find
Man 4 plunged into the desert's heat. He ran to his rescue, whose
head is been held up by Man 3 in his arms. He tried to get the
fainted man back to liveliness, and nothing yielded. 'Leave him
just here if you want to live.' He said and started moving away
like a monster without a wet heart.

Man
3 saw him cover a few feet ahead of him and being cornered to
choose between his own life and the other's, he decided to save
his own first. And that is saneness. Like "charity begins at
home", to save others' lives you first must be full of vitality.
Letting the head slide itself from his palms, and watching it
fall into the sand, he observed the sand forming a cavity that
formed a haven for the falling down head. He sighed, and feeling
the heat play home runs on his almost nude body, he followed
behind Man 5.

Within a few foot, he saw the elderly collapse. He sprinted to
catch the dropping figure. But before could he reach, the man
fell. Man 3 squatted and placing the other head on his plain nude
thigh, he tried to wake him up by juddering him, stroking his
chin and decided that Man 5 would have been dead. For a second he
lost his mind which wandered to Hollywood, that he fantasized
himself to be the lonely survivor - the hero, and realising where
his clumsy mind is getting him to, he snapped back to reality. He
placed his left hand close to the other man's nostrils and found
the play of vacuum. He is dead! Man 3 wanted to shriek and wail.
But he didn't.

Leaving the head, being unsure of the life it may have (He'd
hopes that he maybe alive still), to open ground, he decided to
continue. When he was about to go, he felt a strange feeling
spread throughout his body. It appeared to him that it originated
in the groin and ascended to his chests, not caring much about
shoulders, directly made its way to his head and encamped there.
He was unsure of what the thing that is, but felt that it
paralysed his movement. Maybe this is Death! He was shaken off
his roots. He felt his heart's pound leap over 72s a minute the
moment the word Death came to life in his brain. I will survive.
I must survive. I sure will.

It
took him not much time to realise that it is the warning symbol
that some organ of his body is sending to his brain to indicate
dehydration level. He understood it. A man without formal
schooling understood it!

He
ignored the warnings and started to trek his way. The desert
storm kept blowing constantly - as he thought it to be. But it
indeed was not so strong to be qualified as a storm, it stood
very short to be even called as a moderate gale but what it
indeed did is, it gave flight to the desert sand. It pushed those
hot sands into his eyes. Only the sand kept blowing faster and
it's not a storm or something as his grey matter named it.

He
displayed an insatiable thirst to live, which helped him overcome
every hurdle. He motioned slowly in the same direction with the
assistance of eyelids, which though blocked his vision, stood as
a bulwark to his retina. He didn't know how much distance did his
bare body with boots alone had traversed, but when he opened his
eyes after the sandy desert wind gave in, he found a small mole
ahead of him. A mole of sand. He said to himself that once this
is crossed, a village will surely come and he would survive. All
is well. All is well.

With
utmost difficulty he walked up the mole, draining away completely
his already drained body. He, just before reaching the peak
point, said to himself, "All is Well. On the other side lies the
glorious heaven." When he was just a foot closer, he felt
something block his vision. It appeared like the whole place is
covered with infinite number of black and white and green dots
fill up the place. In no time he understood that he is feeling
dizzy. He with full effort placed one more foot to reach the
peak.

The
moment he stepped onto the peak, he felt something strike his
head internally. Like his nervous system being crippled. Without
the slightest delay, his legs failed him and he was rolling on
the other side of the steep slope of the mole. Though almost out
of sobriety, he felt his roll and the hotness the desert sand is
injecting into his bare body. He rolled, rolled, rolled and
settled at the foot of the mole.

He
was now lying prostrate. He felt something heavenly touch his
chin. He opened his eyes with struggle and found that it is a
pool of water. He looked further ahead to find an oasis.

A/N: please feel free to
correct me. Yes, I agree, compared with my other two short
stories, this is not that much good, but anyway... Comments
welcome. Should you be able to isolate the errors and give me
suggestions and correct usage, I will be feeling very thankful.
Thanks to all...

(and I don't have much
knowledge about genres. How to determine the genre of our
writing? If anyone can explain the basics of genre,
pls...)